Choices We Make
by LaueHime
Summary: One shot based on a prompt on LJ. Teen!Chesters. There are traces of supernatural activity at a day's drive away from where they are and John wants to get there before sunset. Sam is not feeling well and Dean is torn between following his dad's orders or turning back to take care of his growing-sicker little brother. Full prompt inside.


**Title: **Choices We Make

**Author:** LaueHime

**Genre/pairing:** Hurt/Comfort, Family, Angst. Gen

**Characters:** Sam, Dean, John, Bobby

**Word count: **3,664

**Summary:** Written for cowboyguy's prompt on LJ "Pre-series. Sam is sick with a bad cold/cough, and they've been driving all day because there's a hunt in another town and John wants to get there by that night. So John's in his truck and Dean and teen Sam (like 15-17 years old) are following behind in the Impala. Sam is sick and miserable all day, but as they day goes on, he gets worse, and eventually spikes a really high fever. So Sam is all loopy and super feverish, and Dean is torn between doing what John wants to do, and giving John a call and just demanding that they stop somewhere and take care of Sam."

**Disclaimer:** The show belongs to Kripke.

**A/N:** Written for my h/c comment fic meme.

SPNSPN

Sam is 15 in this and Dean is 19.

SPNSPN

The Impala speeds on the dark road leaving Minnesota. Aside from their father's truck a good distance ahead of them, the early morning is rather quiet. John insisted that they left early so that they reached their destination before sunset. There were traces of supernatural activity somewhere between the frontiers of South Dakota and Montana.

Sam was slumbering with his head resting against the window. The kid had been hard to arouse that morning. Dean was usually the one trailing behind but he managed to be faster than his grumpy little brother. They hadn't spoken much since they'd hopped in the car. Sam had actually been unusually quiet in the last couple of days.

"Hey, y' okay?" Dean asks softly. He doesn't mean to pry but if he's done anything to anger his brother, at least he wants to know what he's accused of. Or maybe it's John Sam butted heads with. These two rarely manage to be on the same page.

Sam maneuvers his head around so that he can see his brother without rising from the window. "M' tired" he mumbles half-way into yawning as if trying to prove his point. His voice sounds a little scratchy but Dean brushes it off as fatigue. They've been moving a lot in the past few weeks.

"Y'sure that's all there is?" Dean pushes, wanting to make sure Sam isn't hiding important details. What he gets from Sam is a defensive frown. He doesn't like that this face is usually the one his father receives when John is trying to pull confessions out of Sam. "Hey, I'm just worried about you and wanna make sure you're okay" Dean adds quickly to relieve the tension between them.

Sam seems to slouch as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He shrugs lightly. "Thanks, D. But it's nothing, really. My throat's a little sore and my head hurts, but it's probably nothing" the youngest admits. Dean feels his stomach knot at the thought that he used to read his little brother like an open book and knew, before Sam did, that the kid was getting sick. This time he hadn't noticed.

He turns into protective mode as if he needs to make up for lost time. "Did you take anything?" he asks, suddenly making a mental inventory of what he has in the car that could make his brother feel better.

"Didn't have time to, since you guys practically dragged me out of bed this morning" Sam recalls with a hurt pout. Dean feels bad for rushing his brother now that he knows Sam hasn't been feeling well.

"Sammy, I'm sorry. I didn't know" he apologizes as guilt waves over him. Sam shrugs, his usual teenage pout returning.

"It's fine, Dean" he assures. Dean pokes his head in the backseat before turning back to the road.

"There's a duffle under the backseat. I think it's got aspirin and water in it" Dean informs. Sam nods and folds his growing limbs between the front seats and the back of the car. He finds the duffle, pulls it back to the front, drops it on his knees and starts rummaging through its content. The movement has caused his throat to start itching. He unconsciously raises his arm to cough into the crook of his elbow. The cough is wet and Sam sniffles after the fit. Dean studies him worryingly.

"You're definitely getting sick" he points out. Sam finds the bottle of aspirin and pops a pill onto his tongue before drowning it with water. He shrugs at his brother's comment.

"Why didn't you say something?" Dean continues. Sam doesn't usually hide things from them.

"I'm fifteen, Dean. I can take care of myself" Sam whines. His big brother rolls his eyes.

"That's not the point, Sam. We're a team. If one of us is down, we need to know"

Sam sighs and closes his eyes as he feels his headache spike. "So that I don't get you all killed? Thanks Dad, but I know that" he groans. He's used to the speech and he doesn't like the sound of it when it's coming from Dean.

"It's not that, my idiotic little brother. I said we're a _team_. Teammates take care of each other" Dean smiles. He gives a wink to his startled brother. Sam nods after the confession has sunk in. Chills start to run up his limbs and he pulls his legs up, wrapping his arms around them to keep them close to his body. Dean doesn't miss the gesture.

"I'm…I'm cold, Dean" Sam confesses with the voice of a child. Dean turns concerned eyes to his brother. Sam is shaking lightly. He lifts his foot enough to not send the car in the ditch and starts to pull on his jacket. He manages to tug it off with one hand on the wheel and offers it to his shivering brother before turning all the vents on to full heat.

Sam snuggles into the jacket and falls into a dreamless sleep. Dean's gaze shifts between his brother and the road. He debates calling their father to tell him about Sam, but finally decides against it after promising himself to keep a close eye on his brother. If Sam gets worse, he'll have to rethink his decision.

He follows his father down the highway and they reach the junction for highway 90. His heart pinches when he peeks at the directions. On his right, he'll follow his father to the frontiers of Montana. Still, if he decided to keep straight, he'd end up in Sioux Falls. The idea of taking Sam to Bobby's suddenly appeals to him but following John's orders resonates louder in his list of options.

It takes a few hours for Sam to wake again. He blinks heavily as if he's not sure whether he's still asleep or not. His movements are sluggish and Dean suddenly can't take his eyes away. "Sam, you with me?"

Sam starts moving his lips to talk but he finds his mouth to be cottony. It's like his cheek muscles have stopped holding his face together and he feels lightheaded and hot. "D'n" he slurs with his scratchy croaking voice. The last sound of his brother's name hangs in the air and he rests his head back, panting slightly. His nose is so full he can't draw a full breath.

"Y'okay?" Dean asks, instantly preparing himself to stop on the side of the road. Sam turns his eyes to him and even from where he is, he can see that they are glassy.

"I feel funny…" Sam replies as he scrunches his nose in an attempt to chase an itch away. He sniffles in vain and leans back; panting.

Dean frowns deeply and reaches over to feel Sam's forehead. The dryness of his brother skin isn't what startles him first. Sam's skin is boiling to the touch. His brother fidgets under his palm.

"Hey, Dean" Sam suddenly shoots. Dean can't quite decipher the emotion behind his brother's voice.

"Yeah, buddy?" he asks, waiting for the punch line.

"You have a fever" Sam snorts before he starts giggling drunkenly. Dean is instantly aware that something isn't right. Sam's hot with fever and he's loopy. From the few fevers he remembers, Sam doesn't get loopy until he's reached an uncomfortable level of hot.

"You're the one that's burning, goofy" Dean slips humorlessly as he picks his phone from his pocket. Stopping is not even an option anymore.

'What is it, Dean?' John asks as soon as he picks up his phone. Dean swallows and casts a concerned look at his brother. Sam's cheeks are flushed and his head his bobbing on his neck whenever they hit a scratch on the asphalt.

"We need to stop. Sam isn't feeling good" he reports as his brother's head turn to him.

"I feel awfuuuul, Deaaaaaan" Sam whines softly from his side of the car. Dean shoots him a comprehensive glance. His father doesn't seem to be pleased though; that much he can tell from the change of tone.

'Tell your brother to stop moping. We've got a job to do; people to save' John instructs through the phone. He clearly doesn't see what Dean sees.

"He has a fever, Dad. We should take a break and cool him down. I'm sure we can get there by tomorrow" Dean tries, hoping to reason his stubborn father. He hears a sigh and then John's voice is softer.

'There's a gas station at the next exit. Let's stop and see where we go from there' John proposes. Dean feels relieved and he thanks his father. A quarter of an hour later, they stop at the gas station and Sam's head rolls on the window as he tries to take in his surroundings.

"Where're we?" he asks at the unfamiliar view he has from under his long bangs.

"Gas station" Dean answers simply as he's shuffling through the first aid kit. Sam frowns as John walks behind his big brother and studies the both of them. He feels like he's missing parts of the big play. Mostly, he can see they've stopped to take care of him and he knows his father can't be happy about that.

Dean kneels in front of him and palms his forehead gently. Sam unconsciously leans into his brother's touch. "How're you feeling, buddy?" the eldest asks.

Sam shrugs. "Like a snowman in the sun" he tries to joke but his throat itches and he balls his fist to his mouth as he starts to cough.

"I gotta take your temperature, okay. You're a little hot and I wouldn't want my little snowman to melt" Dean assures with a smile. Sam is too out of it to argue, which worries Dean some more. His little brother is completely submissive to his ministrations which, again, is an alarm bell of its own.

The thermometer lets out a high pitched squeak before Dean can take it back to see the reading. His forehead creases deeply and John can't help but notice that something is off.

"How's the kid doing?" he asks. Dean shakes his head.

"102, Dad. We need to stop somewhere and rest" Dean alarms. John looks hesitant.

"We can stop once we get there, Dean. I don't think riding in the car will make much of a difference. Sam can sleep in the backseat" he tries, really wanting them to at least reach their destination. If Sam isn't up to hunting, he'll check it out on his own. Dean sighs and finally agrees. He gives his brother more aspirin and water and they leave again.

Sam sleeps for a while but Dean can see that his brother is restless. He still doesn't freak out until Sam arouses and starts weeping. "Dean, why does Dad hate me?" Sam asks with trembling lips.

Dean is startled by his brother's sudden emotional outburst. "Dad doesn't hate you, Sam"

"Then why is he always yelling at me? Why is it that everything I do is never good enough?" Sam cries. His eyes are glistening, although Dean can't tell if it's more from the tears or the fever. Either way, he feels eerily grateful for the fever that is the only thing that manages to pull the lid off Sam's bottled emotions.

"It's not because he hates you, Sammy. But you gotta admit sometimes, the two of you are really going at it" Dean tries because he doesn't know what else to say. Sam is right; he fights a lot with their father. Dean has never experienced that. He always did as John said. Sam is more on the stubborn side… just like their father.

"I'm sorry…I'm…I don't want to fight, but nobody ever cares about what I want" Sam slips. His pent up angst is starting to rise to the surface.

"Hey! I care, alright! Trust me, Sammy. I care. But sometimes we have things to do. We have responsibilities. Now I know this sucks, but if we don't help each other, it's never gonna get easier. And I need your help to do that. When something comes up, you need to tell me" Dean establishes firmly but still warmly.

Sam grimaces and frowns as he lifts a hand to his mouth. Dean's eyes widen. "Is something literally coming up?" he asks fearfully; suddenly scared for the upholstery.

But what comes out isn't what Dean expects. Sam starts coughing deep and wet as if he's trying to expel a lung. Dean reaches for his brother's back and runs circles onto it until the fit subsides. The youngest's chest stops itching but he still feels low on air. When he swallows, he can tell his throat is irritated but the feeling of obstruction remains. There's a slight whistling sound whenever he breathes.

"Sam?" Dean inquires worryingly.

"I hate this, D… I think I'm dying" Sam pants out as he snuggles into his brother's side. Dean can feel Sam's boiling hot skin against his body. He puts his hand on the top of his brother's head and hisses at the fiery temperature.

"Nobody's dying today, kiddo. I'll get you some place safe" Dean coos. His decision is made and for the first time in his life, he doesn't fear his father's wrath.

"What 'bout Dad" Sam sniffles into Dean's coat as he rests his eyes closed.

"Don't worry about Dad. Focus on breathing for now, that'll be enough for me" Dean assures as he silently curses the wheezing that's chanting out of Sam. He hasn't checked officially, but he's convinced Sam feels warmer than he had when they stopped.

Dean takes the next exit on the highway and follows the indications towards the same highway, only this time he's looking for the opposite direction. Bobby's is just a couple of hours away and if he pushes it, he can make it in a little more than half the time it took to get there. Screw the hunt, his brother needs him.

He shakes Sam softly and all he gets at first is a grunt. Then Sam arouses enough to look at him with unfocused glassy eyes. "Sammy, can you sit and drink some water for me?" Dean asks softly. Sam is groggy and confused but he finally nods and pushes himself up enough to be sitting against Dean's side. He grabs the bottle shakily and manages to pour some of it into his mouth and not just onto his shirt.

"That's my boy" Dean chimes and before he can say anything else, Sam has slumped back against his side. At the same time, Dean's phone starts ringing. He knows who it is before he flips it open.

'Where the hell do you think you're going?' John asks. He sounds menacingly angry. Dean is unabashed by his father's mood. His worry for his brother keeps him guilt-proof.

"Bobby's. Sam's worse. Do what you have to do. I'll take care of him. Keep me posted" Dean instructs before slipping his phone shut. He's not in the mood to hear his father argue and he's not turning back.

"That Dad?" Sam asks between two breaths. Dean puts his hand back on the top of his brother's head and fights hard against a litany of curses that he wants to get off his chest.

"Yeah" he replies. He doesn't feel the need to lie to his brother.

"He mad?" the youngest asks again, his voice raspy and breathy in the same exhale.

"Don't worry about Dad, Sammy. We're taking a short vacation" Dean says as he runs his fingers through his brother's damp hair. Sam seems to sink deeper into his side.

"Kay" he coughs and then rubs his nose with his sleeve. A few minutes later, he's snoring lightly. Dean calls Bobby to inform him that they're heading his way. The family friend pleads him to be careful on the way. Dean promises he will. He drives as fast as he can without throwing them into a ditch.

Sam hasn't been coherently awake in the time it took to get there. Dean runs out to Bobby's porch at the second the car stops moving. He comes back to the Impala with Bobby on his heels.

"Kid ain't looking good" Bobby notes as he takes in Sam's flushed cheeks and the loud breathing sounds the kid makes when he struggles to pull in a sufficient breath.

"How bad is it, Bobby?" Dean asks as he pulls his brother up. Sam hardly stirs enough to help him. He's limp like a rag doll and lets his big brother manhandle him.

"Can't tell for sure, but it doesn't look like a regular cold to me" Bobby admits as he runs an arm under Sam's shoulder. Dean is doing the same on the other side and they start the walk back to the house. Sam groans but he still doesn't show signs of waking.

"You're okay, Sammy. We're at Bobby's" Dean coos even though Sam isn't exactly conversing back.

"Bobby…" Sam mutters with his eyes closed.

"Yeah, kiddo. I've seen you in better shape" Bobby admits sadly. Resentment boils in his guts when he thinks that John didn't think it was necessary to stop and get his son checked. Had he seen his kid?

"Let's put him on the couch" Bobby instructs. Dean nods and they fold Sam's slender limbs onto the couch. The first aid kit is right there on the table and Dean is happy he called Bobby. He grabs the thermometer and places it inside Sam's ear. The youngest squirms away from the cold apparatus but Dean hushes him.

"It's okay, Sammy. We're just checking on you" he assures as the thermometer finally beeps. Dean curses and he almost drops the device when he peeks at the reading.

"103 and climbing" Dean states angrily.

"Balls" Bobby curses as he quickly moves to the bathroom. He soaks cloths with tepid water and walks back to the couch. After Dean gently undresses his brother, Bobby places the cloths on Sam's forehead, around his neck and under his arm pits.

"Do you think we're gonna need more?" Dean asks as he watches his brother flinch at the contact of water on his skin.

"We'll have to keep an eye on his fever. I don't like the sound of his breathing either" Bobby admits. He's afraid they're dealing with something more serious.

Dean sits next to his brother's head with a bottle of water. He shakes Sam gently. "Hey, buddy. Wake up for me"

Sam grunts enough to let his brother know he's still alive. "Well, that'll have to do" Dean sighs as he pulls his brother up against him and holds the water to Sam's lips. Through little sips, he manages to get a good amount of water into his sick brother. Sam suddenly turns away to cough, violently enough to rattle his whole frame. Dean is splashed with something warm and sticky. He expects it to be phlegm and he feels a little grossed out by it until he sees its color. The secretions are rusty.

"This looks like a nasty lung infection. Your brother needs a hospital" Bobby concludes when he sees the phlegm. He grows even more certain of his idea when he notices that Sam's lips have taken a slight blue tint. A knock on the door distracts him from the brothers. His features harden when he opens the door to the oldest of the Winchester trio, but he loves the boys like his own and he knows their father does too.

"How's my boy?" John asks shyly. Bobby's face softens.

"He's very sick, Johnny. Kid needs a doctor"

John nods. He doesn't argue or raise his voice like he usually does. Bobby finally steps aside to let him in. John follows his friend back to the living room where his boys are. Sam is there, leaning against Dean to hold his weight. The kid his pale, with flushed cheeks and bluish lips, and John feels terrible for not stopping sooner.

"Dad" Dean speaks solemnly. He wasn't expecting his dad to be back. Sam fidgets in his arms after he speaks.

"D'd?" he echoes weakly after his big brother. John purses his lips and nods.

"Yeah. Dean. Sammy. Let's get you to the doctor, kid" John announces. Dean stands up. He's ready to follow.

"I can go with him, Sir" he volunteers.

John smiles sheepishly. "I know, son. But it's been a long day. Why don't you take the night off? I'll take care of Sammy" he winks at his oldest. Dean feels strange and useless when he's ordered to not take care of his brother.

John scoops Sam off from the couch and carries him to his truck. Sam shifts slightly before opening little eyes to his father.

"Dad? You mad at me?" he asks shyly. John feels his heart clench at the thought that Sam believed he was angry with him. He'd been too worried to go on the minute Dean decided to turn around. When it came to Sam, John trusted Dean's instincts more than any doctor.

He finally smiles at his worried son. "Of course not, kiddo. I've been pushing you into this hunt and didn't realize you were sick. I'm sorry, Sam. Are you mad at me?"

Sam's eyes widen. Was his dad asking for his forgiveness? "No, Sir. Thanks for coming back" Sam finally replies. It feels weird to have his dad around, but comforting at the same time.

"Of course, son. I love you guys so much, you know that right?" John asks, unsure he's given enough proof of that lately. But his boys are all he has and he wouldn't trade them for the world.

Sam smiles and snuggles into his dad's side. "Yeah. I love you too, Dad" he whispers as his breathing evens out.

John smiles and dismisses the tears that are threatening to fall as he drives his son to safety.


End file.
